The whole plan hinged upon the natural curiosity of potatoes.

How happy is a gambler! his pocket is a treasure! under his lucky hands brass becomes gold.

But the basic pleasure in the hills is the natural environment which can be as fulfilling in later life as rock climbing was in one’s heyday. Equally dangerous when old (and particularly solo) and thus most satisfying to the spirit because the delight in challenges and the pleasure in calculating risks never dies.

Doubt not but angling will prove to be so pleasant that it will prove to be, like virtue, a reward to itself.

Pommes de Terre”

The plow; the raw September earth; the massive-haunched and mighty-hoofed old bay clomping and farting down the furrow; Father holding the plow, my brother the reins, and me with a sack following, gathering the fruits of the overturned soil – the earth apples…

Richly abundant, brown fat potatoes, thick as stars, appearing like miracles out of the barren, weedy, stony patch, thousands of big hefty solid spuds, bushel after bushel, a hundred bushels per acre, a mass of treasure from the earth…

How our hands and eyes delighted in that harvest, how gladly we dragged our bulging gunnysacks to the wagon…a wagonful of potatoes! Dark, crusted with dirt, soil, earth, cool to the touch, good to eat even raw; we plowed the shabby-looking field and turned up nuggets, plenty, abundance, more than we needed, riches unimagined…

If you have a love for the game of cricket, whether you are a player, an ex-player or simply an onlooker, many will be the pleasures in your life.

The people should be too happy if they had only grass to eat.

However often you go, a good piece of a land will please you more at each visit.

From abundance springs satiety.

Every time one notes an object well it gives rise to delight. As a result of this, practice becomes enjoyable.

To own a bit of ground, to scratch it with a hoe, to plant seeds and watch, their renewal of life, this is the commonest delight of the race, the most satisfactory thing a man can do.

Oriel looked at the potatoes in her hand and thought of the things she'd like to tell the spud growers of Australia about taking a little time, a little pride and a little care.

There is a pleasure in the pattering of rain, and a joy in the sight of a growing plant.

There seems to be no end to the satisfaction one gets in having one’s opinions confirmed.